


Farewell Dear Friend

by IronSwordStarShield (SweetFanfics)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Gen, Mourning, Regrets, movie compliant deaths
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-10
Updated: 2019-09-10
Packaged: 2020-10-13 23:28:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20590889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetFanfics/pseuds/IronSwordStarShield
Summary: What’s left of the original Avengers say their goodbye’s to Tony Stark. (And one reunion).





	Farewell Dear Friend

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [brother](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19415581) by [imposterhuman](https://archiveofourown.org/users/imposterhuman/pseuds/imposterhuman). 

> I got the idea for this reading brother by imposter-human , CHECK! THAT ! OUT!

> _“There’s a thing that keeps surprising you about stormy old friends after they die; their silence.” -Ben Becht_

Bruce doesn’t remember who first told him that when he felt overwhelmed by a problem, he needs to break it down into smaller, most manageable parts. “If you can’t take in the whole picture, focus on it one part a time.” He doesn’t think however, that this method of compartmentalization was meant to be applied in this situation.

What’s the situation he’s talking about? Someone has to get the gems out of the gauntlet that's still fused onto Tony's hand. They can’t return them to their respective timelines otherwise. When Nick had brought this up, scant hours after Rhodey had carried Tony off the battlefield, Bruce had said, “I’ll do it.”

“No offense Dr. Hulk," Fury had began, "but I hardly think this is in your area of expertise.”

“No. But he was my friend. And who else here has used the gauntlet?” Bruce had challenged back.

Nick had nodded in concession. “How do you plan on extracting the gems from the calcified gauntlet? Aren’t you gonna need both your hands?”

Pain pulsed deep in his right arm. “I won’t need any tools to get the gems out. I’ll get the gems to detach on their own. Worst case scenario, I'll deconstruct the device we made to make the gauntlet and use that.” 

And that brings him to the now: in a SHIELD morgue standing a foot away from Tony Stark’s dead body, the night before they’re going to bury the man. 

Bruce stares at the burnt gauntlet and the gems shining within. Not at Tony because Bruce can’t take in that whole picture. He can’t see the carbonized scarring, the peaceful face, the stiff limbs. He can’t process the fact that his friend died, gave up his life and his future to save everyone. It's unfathomable to think of a world where Tony Stark isn't there.

The unfairness of it all hits Bruce out of nowhere and makes him want to snarl and cry at the same time. But that’s all him, not the Hulk. Hulk is unusually quiet, filled with a sorrow so deep it chokes Bruce.

_Iron Man died a hero_, Hulk says in his usual rough way. 

Bruce swipes a hand across his eyes. _He did. He died to save us all. _

The guilt that overwhelms him when Hulk quietly says, _Shouldn’t have let this happen. Should have kept the glove. Could have saved Iron Man. _

That’s not something Bruce has thought about. That maybe if he’d unsnapped the Decimation faster. If he’d paid closer attention to Nebula. If only Tony was still alive. If wishes were horses…

Guilt wraps around him like a cloak made of lead. His eyes slide up, away from the gems and towards the gauntlet that’s fused into Tony. They’d managed to get the armor off but the gauntlet? That’d becomes fused into Tony’s skin. Probably because of the nano-machinery that made up his suit. Bruce hopes that once he’s talked the gems into detaching, the gauntlet will fade away.

Oh but won’t it be poetic for Tony Stark to die with part of his armor still on?

_Focus_, Bruce tells himself, shaking the thought away because he’s got a job to do. He needs to focus on the problem. He needs to bridge these four inches, touch the gems, and see if this theory about the gem’s having some level of sentience, is true or not. Then he could convince them to just… detach. And then… they can bury Tony with all his limbs attached.

_That’s _the thought that has him stepping forward next to the autopsy table. Bruce decides to close his eyes a second before he touches the gauntlet. For a second, there’s nothing. And then, there’s a faint awareness tingling in the depths of his mind. It’s a presence, singular and collective at the same time. It’s a feeling of recognition, eyes meeting across a crowded aisle and awareness sparking like, _oh! I know you! _

It’s the stones. Bruce’s delighted realization that the stones _are _sentient immediately dampens because his first thought is, _Tony would have loved to know this_. Recognition turns to concern in his mind. The memory of his mother’s hands against his curly head comes to the forefront of his mind. Bruce pushes it away and gently asks the stones, “Can you please leave the gauntlet? We want to return you back to where we got you from.”

There’s a pause, a sensation of acceptance, an abrupt snap like a rubber band breaking, and a series of sharp pinging noises, stone hitting metal. Bruce opens his eyes, inhaling deeply when he sees the six stones gleaming against the dull metal of the table. Movement catches his eye however and he can’t help but glance over. The burnt remains of the gauntlet have turned into a dark sludge that’s creeping its way over Tony’s scarred right side.

Nausea overwhelms him even as he realizes what’s happening; the nano-machines are turning to the RT still resting on Tony’s chest. Bruce grabs the gems and stumbles out of the lab, ignoring whoever he bumps into on the way to Fury’s office.

* * *

> _“Painful though parting be, I bow to you as I see you off to distant clouds.” -Emperor Saga_

Thor watches Banner stumble away, wondering what happened to make the man turn so pale. Had something happened when he’d tried to take the gems out of Stark’s gauntlet? The thought makes him hurry to the room they’re keeping Stark’s body in.

When he arrives, nothing seems out of place. If you ignore the fact that Stark is dead that is. Worry and adrenaline abating, Thor moves to stand next to Stark. 

Thor has been a warrior for most of his life. He’s lost soldiers, warriors, friends. And he hates how coming to terms with losing his people hasn’t gotten any easier despite all his years. There’s nothing he can do but honor the man, his life, his nobility, his sacrifice. He thinks back on their first meeting, smiling wryly when he remembers how surprised he’d been when Stark’s armor had shot his lightening back at him. He remembers Stark’s curiosity and all the questions he’d asked about Asgard. Thor remembers the promise he’d made the man once, a lifetime ago.

“I’m sorry you never got to see Asgard,” Thor apologizes quietly. “I promised you I would take your there one day. I meant it. I never thought that…I thought we had more time.”

That’s the thing of it, isn’t it? Thor had foolishly thought there would always be more time. There would always be the Avengers. That if they were going to die, they would die together, in a blaze of glory that would be remembered to the end of time. He’d thought that they would walk into Valhalla together, shoulder to shoulder, the way they fought. Sorrowful at his own naivety and the loss incurred, Thor rests his hand gently on Stark’s head.

He brushes a kiss on smooth, cold skin, and whispers, “I will see you again in Valhalla, friend. Wait for me.” With a heavy heart, Thor takes a moment to look at Stark one last time before he leaves. “Farewell, brother,” Thor murmurs before he turns to walk out the door.

He almost bumps into Steve, who starts back before they collide. “Thor!” he exclaims in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

“Saying goodbye.” The surprise in Steve’s eyes turns to pained understanding. “I’m assuming that’s why you came down here as well?”

“Yes. I… Yes.”

“I shall leave you to it.”

* * *

> _“True friends are the ones who never leave your heart, even if they leave your life for a while. Even after years apart, you pick up with them right where you left off, and even if they die they’re never dead in your heart.” -Unknown_

Steve stands next to Tony’s side for a long time. 

He’s never been an eloquent person. Ever. Steve’s pretty clumsy with relationships in general when it comes down to it. He’s tactless, lets his ego and quick temper get the better of him, lets his assumptions guide his judgement. Mostly, he’s got an unbeatable talent for sticking his foot in his mouth. And _that’s _a talent that had really shone whenever he was around Tony. It’d gotten better over the years but… they hadn’t been friends for the past seven years. And now Tony’s dead but Steve’s still afraid of saying the wrong thing.

_Maybe if I’d had enough courage to say the things I wanted to say, we’d have been friends, _Steve thinks miserably. _If I’d been better, I wouldn’t have been so quick to judge him so quickly. _

The worst part maybe is that Steve just doesn’t know what to say. Whether he liked it or not, Tony had been such a big influence in his life. From being someone who poked his weak spots so effectively, to giving him a home, to being so generous that it gave Steve hives… Tony has… had…changed Steve’s life. 

And he never thanked him for it. 

Tears well in Steve’s eyes as the thought spirals.

_I never thanked him for anything. For the gifts, for the bike, for that stupid painting I complained about but kept. I never apologized for keeping the truth from him. I never apologized for assuming the worst of him. I never even fucking told him that I stopped blaming him for Ultron or the Accords because it wasn’t his fault. I never apologized for not keeping my promise… _

“I wish I’d told you so many things,” Steve whispers, overwhelmed with regret. He’s no stranger to that emotion. When he’d woken up, he’d regretted not being more brave about Peggy. He’d nursed that wound, refusing to let it heal. This is a wound of equal if not greater depth. He’s going to bleed for the rest of life over the what if’s revolving around his interactions with Tony. “I wish I’d thanked you more. I wish I’d told you the truth. I wish…” He stops, laughing bitterly because what’s the point of saying this now?

It’s a pitiful attempt at absolution he’ll never get now. Steve can only choke on his guilt and hope he doesn’t die. God. It wasn’t worth it. He’d naively thought that he was willing to pay whatever price it took to win. And honestly? Steve’d been ready to give up his life when he’d said that. He’d looked over at Tony and gotten a brilliant smile for no reason. Steve closes his eyes to bring the memory forward and almost falls to his knees remembering how that moment was less than a day ago.

Less than a day ago Tony was alive and whole, smiling at Steve with so much trust that Steve had felt humbled. When the day had started, they’d collected the gems and.. Fuck. Steve runs a hand through his hair, tightening his fingers into a fist as he wonders where’d it all go wrong? Couldn’t he have done anything differently? Something that wouldn’t have led to this outcome? 

_I’d promised myself I’d bring him back to his family, _an agonized voice screams inside of him, _I swore I wouldn’t break another promise to him. He shouldn’t have been the one to die. He had a family to come back to._

“It should have been me,” Steve admits to Tony in a ragged whisper. “I thought it was going to be me. I was ready for it. I’ve done it before and I was ready to do it again. But maybe you knew that. Maybe that’s why you didn’t even mention me when we talked about who was going to use the gauntlet. But who knows now, right?”

There’s something pressed against the back of his throat. Pressure that makes his voice go rough around the edges. Steve can’t breath. Every second that passes his breathing becomes more labored. Hot tears fall in a steady stream down his face when he says, “You dragged me kicking and screaming into the future when I didn’t want to. You made look ahead instead of constantly looking back and I resented you for that on my bad days. But the thing is, I was also thankful for it.”

Steve looks away from Tony’s peaceful face and stares at his RT, a fresh pang of hurt swelling in him when he remembers the broken RT that Tony had slapped into his palms after returning from space. His voice shakes when he admits, “I admired your courage so much and I never told you that. You told me once that Captain America was your hero. That you used to look up to him. Well, the truth is I looked up to you. Because no matter what happened, you always got back up. You didn’t let anything stop you. Didn't matter what the problem was or how hard things got. You never stopped. You never gave up hope. You’re the best man I’ve known. The bravest, most stubborn, smartest man I’ve had the privilege of knowing.”

He hides his eyes behind his hand, unable to look at Tony when he admits, barely able to push the words out,“I wish I’d told you that.” And gives in to the guilt that’s beating against his door, letting it wash over him.

* * *

> _“You are remembered for the rules you break.” -Douglas MacArthur_

Clint doesn’t know what the fuck to say to Tony. He just stands there, staring down at Tony, and wonders what would he have done? If he’d been in Stark’s position? If he’d have had to make the same choice…what would he have done?

Clint’s not sure if he’d have been strong enough to do it. He’d like to believe he would have make the sacrifice call too. But God. Tony was one hell of a strong bastard wasn’t he? The balls it took to swipe the gems right out from under Thanos’ nose and then snap his fingers in the titan’s face? _And _he’d managed to do that while being a regular human being. 

“Balls of steel,” Client mutters with a faint smirk. “I’m gonna miss you Stark.” 

* * *

> _“While we are mourning the loss of our friend, others are rejoicing to meet him behind the veil.” -John Taylor_

_Tony doesn’t know where he is. His eyes are closed but he knows he’s somewhere bright because the golden light is penetrating through his eyelids. He’s not sure what’s up or what’s down. Is he standing? Lying down? Sitting on something? He can’t tell. He feels everywhere and nowhere at the same time._

_And then he feels a slim hand slipping into his own. Tony opens his eyes and sees Natasha smiling down at him, auburn hair shining around her head like a wreath of flames. "I didn’t think we’d meet up again so soon, Tony.”_

_A grin blooms on his face. “I just missed you too much, Romanoff.”   
_

_Natasha laughs, “Liar. Come on. I’ll show you around.”_


End file.
